e is no doubt that by day Mr
Swiveller firmly believed this secret convenience to be a bookcase and
nothing more; that he closed his eyes to the bed, resolutely denied the
existence of the blankets, and spurned the bolster from his thoughts.
No word of its real use, no hint of its nightly service, no allusion to
its peculiar properties, had ever passed between him and his most
intimate friends. Implicit faith in the deception was the first article
of his creed. To be the friend of Swiveller you must reject all
circumstantial evidence, all reason, observation, and experience, and
repose a blind belief in the bookcase. It was his pet weakness, and he
cherished it.

'Fred!' said Mr Swiveller, finding that his former adjuration had been
productive of no effect. 'Pass the rosy.'

Young Trent with an impatient gesture pushed the glass towards him, and
fell again in the the moody attitude from which he had been unwillingly
roused.

'I'll give you, Fred,' said his friend, stirring the mixture, 'a little
sentiment appropriate to the occasion. Here's May the--'

'Pshaw!' interposed the other. 'You worry me to death with your
chattering. You can be merry under any circumstances.'

'Why, Mr Trent,' returned Dick, 'there is a proverb which talks about
being merry and wise. There are some people who can be merry and can't
be wise, and some who can be wise (or think they can) and can't be
merry. I'm one of the first sort. If the proverb's a good 'un, I
suppose it's better to keep to half of it than none; at all events, I'd
rather be merry and not wise, than like you, neither one nor t'other.'

'Bah!' muttered his friend, peevishly.

'With all my heart,' said Mr Swiveller. 'In the polite circles I
believe this sort of thing isn't usually said to a gentleman in his own
apartments, but never mind that. Make yourself at home,' adding to this
retort an observation to the effect that his friend appeared to be
rather 'cranky' in point of temper, Richards Swiveller finished the
rosy and applied himself to the composition of another glassful, in
which, after tasting it with great relish, he proposed a toast to an
imaginary company.

'Gentlemen, I'll give you, if you please, Success to the ancient family
of the Swivellers, and good luck to Mr Richard in particular--Mr
Richard, gentlemen,' said Dick with great emphasis, 'who spends all his
money on his friends and is Bah!'d for his pains. Hear, hear!'

'Dick!' said the other, returnin